


drawn to brew

by moonbuns



Category: X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, Meet-Cute, Slow Burn, Strangers to Lovers, kind of ????, once again i do not know how to tag, only rated t for swearing and mentions of alcohol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-22
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25555573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonbuns/pseuds/moonbuns
Summary: Seungyoun finds himself in a seemingly endless art block until he discovers the prettiest barista at his campus coffee shop.
Relationships: Cho Seungyeon | Seungyoun/Han Seungwoo
Comments: 27
Kudos: 96
Collections: Different Pools Fic Fest





	drawn to brew

**Author's Note:**

> for prompt 86: Coffee shop AU! Seungyoun always camps out at the 24-hour coffee shop on campus and one of the cute baristas takes notice.
> 
> this got a bit out of hand and i didn't intend for it to be this long ;; but i hope you enjoy it!

There is a busy little coffee shop tucked into the north end of campus that serves good coffee (for a student-run establishment, it’s no high-end luxury but their brew gets the job done) and shelters stressed students at all times of the school year. It’s more than convenient for the frantic procrastinators that the shop is open twenty four hours, round the clock, given that it has free wifi, strong coffee, and plenty of seats. The coffee shop houses many residents, from the frequent crammer who never learns how to start assignments more than eight hours before the deadline to the midterm rush crowds to the rare panicker who drags themselves in to order way too many shots of espresso when they realize they’ve forgotten about an exam the next day. And recently, the coffee shop has taken in one Cho Seungyoun, who has plopped himself into the same seat at the same table for the past four days but has made little to no progress on the project he has been toiling over ever since the semester started.

Seungyoun suppresses a groan as he tears yet another page out of his sketchbook, dragging his pen across the paper almost aggressively as he scratches out his unsatisfactory draft. He’s been trying to get this sketch _just right_ but every time he thinks he’s done, something just feels very off. He’s been in somewhat of an art block; it’s been a while since he’s taken a traditional art course, having spent the last few semesters knocking out his digital design prerequisites, so getting back to pencil and paper has been giving him a hard time. He has been sketching and re-sketching for what feels like hours and the strong aroma of coffee surrounding him is starting to give him a headache. He snaps his sketchbook closed and picks up his phone for a distraction.

There’s nothing but a couple texts from Wooseok complaining about how he has forgotten his keys for the umpteenth time. Seungyoun resists the urge to roll his eyes at his housemate and just sends him a message to come find him so he can borrow his keys. Wooseok is a good housemate, he keeps things fairly clean and he never leaves dishes in the sink for too long, but he goes through keys like tissues. Seungyoun has lost track of how many times he has returned to their apartment only to find the brunette sitting on their doorstep, either with his keys misplaced somewhere or left behind in his room.

He receives confirmation that Wooseok is on his way from the other side of campus and he decides that maybe he’ll just go home with him when he gets here. It’s obvious that today is another unsuccessful day at attempting to make real progress on his assignment and he feels burnt out from how much he’s been pushing himself to get something out before his first due date. His looming deadline makes him feel a tiny bit more hopeless once again and he sets down his phone so he can dramatically pillow his head in his arms and wallow until Wooseok finds him.

Seungyoun buries his face into his arms and closes his eyes. Perhaps a little pity nap before his housemate arrives will perk him up. He sighs again and tries not to think about what he might be doing wrong on his school work and instead focuses on the hum of activity filling the coffee shop. It’s busy as ever, what with midterm season upon them, plus the rainy weather has chased most of the afternoon crowd indoors and the coffee shop is more than warm and welcoming. The whir of the coffee machines floats through the air and the clink of mugs and spoons against ceramic cut through the buzz ever so often. Cheerful chatter comes from all around him, coupled with the telltale clicking keyboards, fingers typing and deleting and typing again. Seungyoun lets the sounds whirl around in his mind, urging them to form a mental image inspiring enough to give him motivation for his assignment. He is sadly unsuccessful.

A sudden noisy clatter makes Seungyoun jump in his seat, head whipping up dangerously fast. He rubs at the back of his neck as he looks around. The conversations in the entire coffee shop come to a standstill as everyone’s attention is drawn to a barista standing by the pick-up counter, surrounded by what looks like an entire box of wooden stirrers splayed out on the ground around his feet. The sudden silence is very jarring, only the coffee machines continuing to spit and whistle as everyone stares.

Why isn’t anyone helping? Seungyoun thinks to himself, irritated. Surely _someone_ will get up, right? But not even the table closest to the barista makes a move, everyone just frozen in their seats. Seungyoun can see the hunch in his shoulders, as if trying to make himself smaller than he is (which would be very difficult, seeing as he is broader than Seungyoun and much too tall to be cowering like that). Throwing a disappointed glare at the people around him, Seungyoun pushes himself out of his chair and hurries to help the poor employee.

He kneels down to sweep together the stirrers around the base of the counter, sparing a moment to smile briefly at the barista. “It’s okay,” he whispers as the other kneels down to do the same.

The barista gives him a small smile, tight-lipped and embarrassed, and just nods shakily as he gathers more wooden stirrers.

The noise level returns to normal as everyone’s attention goes back to whatever they were doing and Seungyoun can’t help but roll his eyes. He dumps his handful of sticks into the now dented box and looks around for any that have slid further away.

“Thank you for your help,” the barista mumbles, avoiding eye contact. He gathers the box in his arms, now full of unusable stirrers and looks at them as if they’ve just kicked his dog.

“It’s nothing,” Seungyoun reassures him, leaning over comically to look under the coffee cart to the side of the counter to find any last stray sticks. He hopes it’ll make the other smile, but instead Seungyoun swears he can almost see his bottom lip wobbling. He quickly scrambles to stand up; if he does end up crying he doesn’t want to embarrass him any further.

The barista stands up too, blinking quickly. He takes the last stirrers from Seungyoun’s hands and almost violently tosses them into the box.

Seungyoun tries to catch his eye, feeling bad, but abruptly stops short, rendered speechless. He is sure this is the same barista that took his order earlier, but how had he not noticed how devastatingly attractive he was? Had he been this good looking when Seungyoun had walked in? Had he been this good looking behind the counter? Was it humanly possible for someone to have such a nice face? And jawline and cheekbones and eyes and nose, wow that _nose_ …

Too caught up in his thoughts, Seungyoun misses the way the barista’s face colors deeply, probably misinterpreting his staring, and he quickly mumbles a goodbye before rounding the counter with hurried steps to disappear into the backroom. Still dazed, Seungyoun walks back to his table and sits back down. He can’t seem to think of anything aside from the fact that the barista has a face that a fine arts class would probably spend an entire week’s worth of lectures discussing and he can’t believe he has lived his entire life before this moment without seeing it. He is in the middle of staring off into space with a dreamy sigh when a tall figure abruptly walks up to his table and sets down a plate with a heavy thud.

Seungyoun looks up to find the barista of his dreams standing over him, stubbornly avoiding eye contact once again. Looking shy and awkward, he shifts on his feet and nudges the plate closer with an indistinct mumble. Seungyoun only has a moment to take in the writing on his name tag–Han Seungwoo, even his _name_ is dreamy!–and the endearing way the tips of his ears have turned red before the barista turns on his heel and speedwalks away.

“I– wait–!” Seungyoun attempts to call after him but Seungwoo once again ducks behind the counter and hurries out of sight. He looks down at the plate left behind, laden with what looks like several hastily cut brownies. There’s at least six, all the size of Seungyoun’s palm, and ultimately too many just for a single person. They smell heavenly though, and the way their crinkled tops glisten and their sides ooze with melted chocolate makes Seungyoun believe they must be fresh out of the oven.

Fighting off a smile, Seungyoun carefully picks up a warm brownie and breaks off a piece. It’s still gooey and soft, melting away in his mouth, and though it is very delicious, he doesn’t think he needs six. He fixes his gaze behind the counter, waiting for the barista to reappear so he can catch his eye and call him back to thank him.

He doesn’t notice the seat across from him become home to a certain housemate of his until Wooseok reaches out to steal the last half of the brownie in his hands.

“Hey!” Seungyoun swats at him, trying to retrieve it before Wooseok can pop it into his mouth. His attempts are futile and he watches sadly as Wooseok smiles smugly back at him with crumbs on his face.

“You have so many, you can share,” he points out, nodding to the full plate between them. “Why did you buy the entire stock anyway?”

“I didn’t buy them,” Seungyoun mutters, feeling shy. He can’t help but blush when he thinks of the handsome barista and the color on his cheeks get worse when he remembers the adorably awkward way he had thanked him for his help. It simply isn’t fair that someone _that_ handsome is also _that_ endearing.

“What?” Wooseok narrows his eyes at him. If there’s anything Wooseok is eerily good at it, it’s reading Seungyoun. He just _knows_ when the other isn’t telling him something. “What’s got you all red?”

Unable to stop himself, Seungyoun panics and his gaze flickers up to the counter where Seungwoo is currently reorganizing the pastries in the glass case. He looks away just as quickly but Wooseok is sharp. He knows he’s been caught when Wooseok turns to look over his shoulder and follow Seungyoun’s stare before turning back with that signature smirk unfurling across his tiny, cursed, all-knowing face.

"Oh my god," Wooseok snickers at him, looking absolutely devious. "You're _shy_."

“I am not shy!” Seungyoun hisses across the table, desperate for him to keep his voice down.

“You _are_!” Wooseok twists in his chair to look over at Seungwoo, being incredibly obvious in the way he cranes his neck to get a good look. He whips back around with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “What’s his name? Do you know it yet? Should I go get it for you?” The questions tumble out of his mouth, overwhelming Seungyoun.

He nearly dives over the table to grab Wooseok before he can rise from his chair. “Please no!” he begs, lowering his voice and slumping down onto the table. He notices the grin on Wooseok’s face that can only be the telltale sign of him getting ready to poke fun at Seungyoun.

“Don’t say it,” he pleads, words muffled as he covers his face with his hands.

“Say what?” Wooseok examines his nails. He is irritatingly calm and content, knowing he has the upperhand. “That Cho Seungyoun–outgoing, bold, confident _Cho Seungyoun_ –is shy over a boy?”

Seungyoun pops up to give him a distraught look, eyes glancing all around to make sure no one is listening. “Keep your voice down,” he begs, trying to decide whether glaring at Wooseok or giving him his best pleading puppy eyes will help his situation more.

“Or else what?”

“I won’t let you into the house you key-less gremlin,” Seungyoun threatens, trying his best to shoot daggers at him with his eyes.

Wooseok presses his lips together, glaring back. “Fine,” he grits out after a moment, unable to think of a comeback.

They glare at each other, caught in a stalemate, until Wooseok finally breaks the silence and asks, “Can we go home now?” He rests his chin in his palm and sighs through his nose. “I want to take a nap.”

Seungyoun nods and begins to gather his things, sweeping his sketchbook into his bag and tucking away any stray sheets so they won’t get caught in the zipper. “Oh, we can’t take the plate,” he says, mostly to himself, as he glances over at the brownies.

The words are barely out of his mouth by the time Wooseok is halfway to the counter, throwing a sly grin over his shoulder at Seungyoun. He is left behind to watch with bated breath as he imagines all the ways Wooseok can embarrass him in front of the Most Attractive Man alive. He almost watches the entire exchange through his fingers, unsure of if he wants to look or not, but a deep sense of relief bears down on him when Wooseok walks back with a paper bag in his hands and Seungwoo continues on with his barista duties as if nothing out of the ordinary has taken place.

“Excellent taste if I do say so myself,” Wooseok tells him as he slides the brownies into their to-go bag. He licks the crumbs off his fingers and folds it closed. “You should go for it.”

“I should?” Seungyoun gapes at him, not expecting his friend to have been so encouraging. It’s not that Wooseok doesn’t believe in him, it’s just that he had thought Wooseok would tease him about it for a bit longer before giving him advice.

“Have you seen his nose?” Wooseok whispers, looking serious. “I would kick you out if you didn’t at least introduce yourself.”

“You can’t kick me out,” Seungyoun grumbles as they walk towards the door. He pulls his coat tight around him, eyeing the cloudy skies outside. “You’d lock yourself out and then we’d both be homeless.”

“Shut up.” Wooseok nudges the door open and winces as the chilly wind immediately seeps through his sweater. They brave the cold as they make their way to the bus stop, swapping stories about their day when Wooseok suddenly stops short, narrowing his eyes at Seungyoun.

“Hold on. You _did_ introduce yourself to him, right?”

Seungyoun glances quickly at him before he starts walking faster. “We’re going to miss the bus, Seokie.”

“ _Right_?” Wooseok calls after him, striding to keep up. “Hey! Answer me!”

Seungyoun is too busy dodging Wooseok’s swatting hands and demanding questions to realize that he’s left his umbrella tucked under the table they had just vacated, forgotten but found by a certain barista with a striking nose.

♡ ♡

Fresh out of the shower, Seungyoun slumps down into his bed and stares at his bedroom ceiling, feeling drained from the day. He looks over to his side, glaring at his desk. The wood can barely be seen through the numerous sheets he’s torn out of his sketchbook, all covered in rough drafts and second drafts and what _should_ be final drafts of unsatisfying work. He sighs and closes his eyes, trying to think of what his TA had told him when he had expressed his frustrations to him.

 _Find something inspiring_ , he had said to Seungyoun, _something that sticks in your mind until you put it on paper_. Seungyoun presses his head back into his pillow and squeezes his eyes shut, frustrated. As if something like that was so easily found! The only thing stuck in Seungyoun’s mind is the red tipped ears of a handsome barista and his small smile and his distinctive side profile.

Wait.

Seungyoun springs up and off his bed so fast, practically bouncing over to his desk and sweeping the much less important papers off its surface before he plops himself down into his seat and slams his sketchbook open again. His fingers itch to fill the paper with dark eyes and floppy bangs and the nose, _of course_ the nose. He bites his lip, closing his eyes as he tries to remember the tiny details that make up such a handsome face before continuing, doing his best to translate beauty into a hasty sketch. Putting it on paper is harder than he had expected, but when he’s done he finds that it actually makes him _feel_ something compared to his previous attempts.

But maybe that’s just a teeny tiny crush planting itself in his chest.

♡ ♡

It only takes a few days for Seungyoun to realize that his umbrella is lost. Unfortunately, he comes to the realization at the worst possible moment, finding himself stranded in the lobby of the art department’s main building after he has just finished his last class of the day. He looks out at the almost violent downpour that is currently wreaking havoc on the poor souls that dared to venture outdoors.

Seungyoun sighs dejectedly, looking down at his underdressed self. He’s only got a warm sweater on, one without a hood, so even if he wanted to try running for it he’d still end up getting soaked from head to toe. Plus his sketchbook is in his backpack and he doesn’t want to risk even a little bit of water seeping through to it. As much as he wants to get home, he’ll have to wait it out. He shrugs his backpack off and walks over to sit down on the ground, back against the wall. The steady thrum of the rain pounding down outside mocks him as he gazes through the glass doors to the waterlogged grounds.

He rifles through his folders to find his half-finished sketches, deciding that he might as well try and complete them as long as he’s got time to kill. Though he has an embarrassing number of sketches of a certain _someone_ tucked between the pages of his book, he is reluctant to submit them. Something about Seungwoo makes him want to keep him all for himself, not to mention submitting numerous drawings of a _stranger_ doesn’t sit quite right with him. Instead, he’s found that the inspiration that struck from Seungwoo has propelled his creative energies, making it easier for him to produce other non-Seungwoo related sketches that are probably much more acceptable for an academic assignment. Resting his head back against the wall, he closes his eyes and sends a silent thanks to the universe for giving him something so beautiful to combat his art block with.

“Um. Are you okay?”

Seungyoun startles, looking up to find the one person on his mind, as if his thoughts had manifested him to appear. He can practically feel his eyes bulging out of his head as they meet the mildly concerned gaze of Han Seungwoo.

“Are you good?” he asks again, tilting his head.

Seungyoun stammers to answer, finding it difficult to come up with a coherent thought. All he manages is a weak, “Han Seungwoo?”

Seungwoo blinks at him, surprised. “You know my name?”

Wincing, Seungyoun mentally berates himself before quickly trying to explain. “Your nametag! At the coffee shop. I remembered you.”

“Ah,” Seungwoo says softly, a slight blush dusting over his nose. He smiles and offers Seungyoun a hand. Seungyoun takes it, giving it a shake and trying his best to remember all the do’s and don’ts of a good handshakes (firm, solid grip, keep the wrist steady and don’t hold on for too long!). He thinks he’s doing a pretty good job, except Seungwoo laughs at him and he wonders what about his handshake is so wrong.

“I was giving you a hand up,” he explains, still chuckling.

“O-Oh.” Seungyoun moves to take his hand back, but Seungwoo tightens his grip and tugs him up with surprising strength. He swings up and onto his feet, stumbling a little when he finds himself right in Seungwoo’s space. He takes a wobbly step back and lets go of Seungwoo’s hand. “Thanks,” he mumbles as he turns to pick up his bag, just to have something to do besides look at the other.

“No problem…?”

A moment passes in silence and Seungyoun realizes belatedly that Seungwoo is asking for his name. He rushes to respond, feeling the color rise to his cheeks. “Oh! I’m Seungyoun. Cho Seungyoun.”

“Nice to see you again, Seungyoun.” Seungwoo’s smile widens. “You don’t have an umbrella, do you?”

Seungyoun shifts awkwardly on his feet, looking sheepish. “I think I left it, last time,” he answers, rubbing the back of his neck.

“I know.” Seungwoo tilts his head at him. “Do you have time now?”

“Now?”

“My shift starts soon so we can go to the cafe together.”

Seungyoun glances outside where the rain is still continuing to pound down. He looks at his backpack, his precious backpack full of his hard work, and shakes his head. He’s about to refuse when Seungwoo thrusts something into his hands. He stares down at the umbrella now in his grip. “But won’t you–?”

Seungwoo makes a big show of putting on a padded jacket, the smile never falling from his face. “You have that, and I’ll have this.”

Seungyoun tries to protest, overwhelmed by his kindness, but Seungwoo is having none of it. Minutes later, he finds himself walking beside the other as the rain slaps against the umbrella, held in between the both of them by Seungyoun who had absolutely refused to be the only one who used it. He just felt bad about inconveniencing Seungwoo like this. He uses his other arm to grip his backpack to his chest. He hunches his shoulders, trying to take up as little space as possible beneath the umbrella. Seungwoo was just as broad if not broader than he was, and he didn’t want to push him out into the rain.

The silence between them feels awkward to Seungyoun but when he chances a peek over to Seungwoo, he has a small content smile on his face. He tries his best not to stare too long, but Seungwoo feels his gaze on him a second too soon. He turns his head towards him and his eyes turn into lovely little crescents; Seungyoun, predictably, flushes deeply and is quick to avert his gaze.

“Did you just get out of class?” Seungwoo starts the conversation easily, picking up on Seungyoun’s hesitance.

Seungyoun nods, glancing over again and letting his eyes linger. Somehow Seungwoo feels different today, much more talkative than he had been before. He studies him for a moment.

“What,” Seungwoo laughs, catching his eye. He gently touches Seungyoun’s wrist, nudging his hand higher so the umbrella doesn’t brush the tops of their heads as much. The soft warmth startles Seungyoun and he can’t stop himself from blurting out his thoughts.

“You’re not as quiet this time,” he says, unable to hold himself back. “You ran away the other day.”

“Oh!” Seungwoo’s ears turn pink, much like they did the other day. He laughs softly again and gives him an apologetic smile. “You caught me on a tough day. I’m sorry.”

“No, no!” Seungyoun waves his free hand, brushing off the apology. “You don’t have to say sorry. _I’m_ sorry you had a bad day.”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Seungwoo echoes back at him with an amused gleam in his eyes.

Seungyoun accepts this with a shrug and a faint smile. “Fair enough.”

“Are you an arts major?”

Seungyoun raises a brow at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“We just left the art building...” Seungwoo looks thoroughly amused, as if he’s trying to hold himself back from teasing him. It makes Seungyoun blush again. “Plus you’ve been at the coffee shop for about a week drawing harder than anyone I’ve ever seen before.”

Seungyoun groans out loud, almost throwing his arms up in frustration but remembering at the last moment that he’s still holding the umbrella. It jerks in his hands from his movements and fat water droplets fly off the edge and into Seungwoo’s hair. He looks pretty and Seungyoun has to stop himself from telling him that. Instead, he pouts to himself. “Is it that obvious?” he asks, not realizing his desperation to push through this art block was so noticeable.

“I mean,” Seungwoo interrupts himself with a chuckle. “It’s hard not to notice when you look like you’re on the verge of tears the entire time.”

“It’s hard!” Seungyoun exclaims, laughing.

“What is?”

“The assignment, or well, the entire class in general,” he admits, sighing through his nose. “I’m a Digital Media major so I haven’t taken a traditional art class in a few semesters. It’s been hard to get back into it, I guess.”

Seungwoo hums in understanding, nodding seriously as he listens. “That makes sense,” he agrees. “I’m a Studio Arts major so I think I’d be struggling too if I had to take any of the digital courses. Digital Media is impressive, by the way. You must be really talented.”

This time Seungyoun blushes deep, feeling his cheeks grow impossibly hot. He presses a hand to his mouth, trying to fight off the wide smile attempting to spread across his face. “Thanks,” he mutters, looking stubbornly at the ground. He abruptly changes the subject, trying not to make his flustered state too obvious.

“How did you know I left my umbrella?”

“Like I said, I’ve seen you at that same table for the entire week,” Seungwoo says, shrugging. “And you were the only one who got up to help me, remember? Of course I would remember you.” He pauses and the smile he gives him is blinding. Seungyoun sears the image into his mind, his fingers itching to create it on paper later. “Thanks again, by the way. You didn’t have to.”

“No one else got up!” Seungyoun bursts out, annoyed. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“It’s okay,” Seungwoo brushes off, his smile never leaving his face. “Sometimes people are busy.”

“It’s common decency,” Seungyoun grumbles, mostly to himself, as they approach the entrance to the coffee shop. The neon 24-hour sign buzzes welcomingly at them. “Can’t say you’re too busy when it took less than a minute anyway.”

“I’m touched,” Seungwoo says, teasing just a little bit. He tugs the door open and lets Seungyoun enter first.

The smell of warm coffee washes over him as he enters, glad to escape the chill outside and the rain that shows no sign of letting up any time soon. He follows Seungwoo to the counter, stopping on one side while the other rounds behind it and bends down to retrieve something.

“Ah! Here we are.” He surfaces with Seungyoun’s umbrella in his hands and he passes it over to him with a sly grin. “It was hard to forget your face when your umbrella looked like this.”

Seungyoun takes the umbrella from his hands and laughs, slightly embarrassed. It’s a bright yellow color with small ducks all over it; he’d stolen it from his little cousin because a) what seven year old needs an umbrella and b) it was surprisingly large and sturdy. It had outlasted all of his other ‘big kid’ umbrellas so far anyway. He tucks it under his arm, nearly pouting at Seungwoo. “Hey! It discourages anyone from stealing it.”

“Is there a serial umbrella thief going around campus?” teases Seungwoo, now shrugging off his jacket. One side of it is darkened from the rainwater, probably because the two of them simply could not fit completely underneath the umbrella. Seungyoun feels bad; they were little more than strangers yet Seungwoo had shown him an incredible amount of kindness for no reason at all.

“You never know!” Seungyoun rolls his eyes playfully before shooting him a grateful smile. “Thanks for saving me from the rain. I really owe you one.”

“We’re even now,” Seungwoo insists. “You helped me first.”

“And then you gave me an entire tray of brownies,” Seungyoun scoffs, laughing. “I still have them at home.”

“It was _half_ a tray!”

“It was too many for one person,” Seungyoun says. “And what if I didn’t even like chocolate?”

“Do you not like chocolate?” A shadow of worry darkens Seungwoo’s face and Seungyoun rushes to cast it away.

“No!” he nearly shouts, ignoring the strange stares from the occupied tables near the counter. “I love chocolate!”

Seungwoo blinks at him, taken aback.

Seungyoun digs into his pockets and slams his wallet onto the counter. “I’ll buy all your brownies right now,” he says, looking at him seriously. “I love chocolate, I promise.”

“Hey buddy, you can’t go buying the whole case. Some of us like chocolate too,” an unfortunately familiar voice comes from over Seungyoun’s shoulder. He freezes, not wanting to turn around to face reality. Unluckily for him, the voice travels around him and Wooseok smiles prettily at the both of them as he extends a hand out to Seungwoo.

“Hi,” he says brightly. “I’m Wooseok.”

Seungwoo raises a brow, curious, but shakes Wooseok’s hand all the same and introduces himself. He looks like he’s holding back laughter as Wooseok picks up Seungyoun’s wallet and takes his debit card out.

“We don’t need any brownies,” Wooseok says easily, turning the card over in his fingers. “But I’ll take an Americano please. Seungyoun, you want anything?” He laughs as he hands it over. “It’s on you.”

“I hate you,” Seungyoun grits out, watching Seungwoo tap some buttons on the cash register as he tries not to laugh. Wooseok flits away to find a table for them, humming contentedly to himself and Seungyoun turns back to Seungwoo. “Can you make that two Americanos please,” he says weakly.

Seungwoo actually laughs out loud this time, nodding and handing over his receipt. When he looks at it, he protests, trying to push his card back into Seungwoo’s hands. “Let me pay for the drinks!” he insists, flustered.

“It’s on the house and if you argue I’ll give you another tray of pastries,” Seungwoo threatens. “Go sit down! I’m going to ignore you now.” He walks away to grab cups for their coffee, leaving Seungyoun’s protests to fall on deaf ears.

Stubborn, Seungyoun shakes the spare change out of his wallet (a measly few coins) and dumps them into the tip jar with a pointed look in Seungwoo’s direction. The other simply laughs and makes a threatening move towards the case of baked goods that has Seungyoun darting off to find Wooseok.

“Having fun?” his housemate asks when he finally joins him at the table.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seungyoun mutters, avoiding eye contact so Wooseok won’t have the chance to tease him.

“It’s cute,” Wooseok continues. He sets his chin in his palm, elbow resting on the table. “You flirt like a high schooler.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Seungyoun repeats, louder to drown him out. “Shush I have work to do.”

“You mean you’re going to look at your sketchbook for twenty minutes and then cry over the pages in the hopes that your tears will outline a good enough subject to draw?” Wooseok blinks at him innocently over the top of his glasses. Seungyoun wants nothing more than to rattle him until his head wiggles like a bobblehead.

“Why are you here anyway,” Seungyoun asks instead of answering him, pouting as he pulls out his sketchbook.

“For coffee of course,” Wooseok says simply, as if it’s obvious. Which, it kind of is considering the establishment they are in.

“You never come here.” Seungyoun irately whips his book open and flips to a blank page. He taps the eraser end of his pencil against the sheet, looking at it until it gives him inspiration.

“I knew you would probably be here,” explains Wooseok. He doesn’t even bat an eye in embarrassment when he says, “I forgot my keys again.”

Seungyoun jabs his pencil in his direction, sighing. “One day you’re going to be stranded outside and I won’t be able to help you and you’re going to be abducted.”

“That seems a bit far-fetched? You’ve never helped me before.” Wooseok looks up from his phone to grin at him. “Before you clear the table to fight me, your barista is waving you over.” He nods his head over Seungyoun’s shoulder.

He leaps up, stumbling over the chair legs in his haste. “He’s not _mine_!” he hisses under his breath, glaring. The expression drops quickly from his face as he approaches the pick-up counter where Seungwoo has just set down two cups of coffee.

Seungyoun picks them up and looks at Seungwoo in confusion. “In to-go cups?” he teases. “Are you trying to tell me to leave?”

“No, no,” chuckles Seungwoo. He takes one of the cups from Seungyoun and, with an exaggerated flick of his wrist, presents the other side to him with an excited, “Tada!” There, on the cup sleeve, is Seungyoun’s name written in neat handwriting and beside it, a lopsided drawing of a duck.

Playful, Seungyoun studies the drawing, tilting his head to the side just a bit. “Ah! It’s a…?”

“It’s a duck,” Seungwoo retorts, thrusting the drink back to him with a sniff. “I tried okay, the marker just sucks.”

“I’m kidding!” Seungyoun laughs, taking his drink. “It is a very nice duck. Your major is paying off nicely.”

“I’m going to give you an anti-discount next time,” Seungwoo threatens, but the laughter is obvious on his face. “That means I make you pay extra.”

“Then I just won’t come.” Seungyoun raises his brow at him as he lifts the cup to his mouth, taking a tentative sip so as not to burn his tongue. The coffee warms him from the inside out.

Seungwoo takes a few steps backwards, heading back to the cash register. “We’ll see about that,” he says lightly before giving him a small wave and getting back to work.

Seungyoun hands Wooseok his cup before settling in to actually get his own work done. Though his fingers itch to create more, all he can think of drawing is Seungwoo’s flawless side profile and he doesn’t want to do that in front of Wooseok. So instead he looks at the glasses perched on Wooseok’s tiny nose and puts pen to paper to get started.

“What’s on your cup?” Wooseok asks, breaking his focus. He reaches out to turn Seungyoun’s coffee around before he can move it out of his reach. An amused glint appears in his eyes as he takes in the hasty drawing and then compares it to his own blank cup. He pouts, turning it around in his hands.

“Look, I didn’t get a drawing. Guess I’m not as special as some _other_ people are.”

Seungyoun fights off his embarrassment by taking a scalding sip of his drink, gasping as he takes too big a mouthful, heat filling his cheeks. Wooseok just rolls his eyes at him and lets him continue his work without any more interruptions.

It takes a few more minutes before Wooseok takes notice of his sketch, smiling softly as he watches Seungyoun’s hands work and raising a brow as he watches his features come to life on the page. He doesn’t say anything, just peeking over the screen of his laptop ever so often to assess Seungyoun’s progress.

“Can I have it?” he asks as Seungyoun shades in the planes of his nose.

“No, I’m submitting it for my portfolio assignment,” Seungyoun murmurs. He doesn’t look up, biting his lip as he uses his fingertips to soften the lines.

“You can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I want it.”

“And I want to pass this class Wooseok,” Seungyoun sighs, looking up to see Wooseok looking particularly pleased with himself for riling him up. “But we can’t always have what we want.”

As he speaks, his eyes flicker over to the cash register where Seungwoo is smiling handsomely at a couple freshmen and quickly catches himself. Hoping Wooseok didn’t notice his little glance, he hunches over his sketch and ignores any more of his attempts to distract him. He touches up the corners of sketchbook Wooseok’s mouth and can’t help but compare it to the wide smile he has drawn multiple times before this.

His teeny tiny crush begins to grow.

♡ ♡

Seungyoun tries not to frequent the coffee shop too much, not wanting to give Seungwoo the wrong idea. Sure he has _some_ interest in him, but Seungwoo has been nothing but kind and friendly to him and he doesn’t want to scare off any chances of hopefully cultivating a new friendship with the handsome barista. And while taking it slow seems like a good plan to Seungyoun, Wooseok finds great amusement in letting him know that he’s just hiding behind the thought of friendship because he’s too afraid of admitting he has a crush. He’s also found a new favorite hobby in slyly mentioning a certain barista in order to fluster him as much as possible and he has a knack for bringing him up right when Seungyoun is considering making a visit to see him–er, to get a cup of coffee.

And then there’s times like now, when Wooseok brings it up just to relish the way Seungyoun flounders to respond.

“Off to see your muse?” Wooseok’s voice carries easily from the living room, stopping Seungyoun where he stands right by the front door, laundry basket tucked under his arm.

“I’m going to get my clothes,” Seungyoun snaps back, rolling his eyes even though the other cannot see him. “It is literally past midnight, why would I be getting coffee? Plus you clearly saw my basket and we just talked about laundry like ten minutes ago and–”

“Okay, okay!” Wooseok’s laughter rings throughout the apartment. “I stopped listening already. Go get your clothes before someone steals them from the dryer.”

Seungyoun grumbles the entire way down to the laundry room. He has been thinking seriously about going back, but he’s afraid Wooseok made it too obvious to Seungwoo that he has some sort of interest in him. But it’s not like he has _feelings_ for him! He’s just a little starstruck by how Seungwoo is so beautiful and kind and warm and every positive adjective possible that exists in any language.

He steps into the laundry room a little hesitantly; it’s empty and the only noises are coming from his still active dryer. The machine jerks in its spot, the metallic clunks echoing in the tiny room. It’s a little unnerving if Seungyoun’s being honest; he doesn’t usually do his laundry this late and being down here in the middle of the night makes his skin crawl with discomfort. He nervously looks at the remaining couple minutes left on his dryer cycle and resigns himself to leaning against the small table along the wall, hoping the time goes by as fast as possible, while keeping one eye on the door so he isn’t startled by anyone coming in. His foot taps restlessly as he waits, itching to go back upstairs. Finally, the dryer hums one last time and falls still.

Seungyoun quickly yanks its door open, feeling the silence close in on the laundry room. He isn’t so sure he prefers it this way so he glances around before starting to whistle nervously to himself, anything to fill the unsettling quiet. His little tunes barely make up for the hush so he moves to dump his clothes into his laundry basket as fast as possible, his whistling getting louder as he grows more and more antsy.

He’s reaching in to make sure he hasn’t left behind any stray socks when suddenly–

“Hello–?”

“Waaugh!” Seungyoun quite literally shrieks, his voice reaching a pitch he didn’t even know he could produce, and sends his laundry basket flying, arms flailing as he jumps violently. His own scream elicits a matching yell from the new presence in the room and that just makes Seungyoun get even louder, their shouts mixing together in a strange harmony of fear.

Seungyoun bangs his toe and his elbow against the dryer and stumbles over himself as he whips around, almost kicking his fallen basket at his feet. He clasps a hand to his chest, eyes wide as he turns to find the cause of his shock.

“Seungyoun?” The last person he had ever expected to find him in this situation steps into the room, the same surprise mirrored on his face.

“Seungwoo?” All the tension leaves Seungyoun’s body with one deep sigh, his weight falling back against the dryer as he feels embarrassment and sheer relief turn him into an exhausted noodle. He clings to the machine and wails pitifully, “Why did you do that!”

“Do what?” Seungwoo looks like he’s barely containing his laughter, the corners of his mouth twitching as he fights off a smile. Trying his best not to embarrass Seungyoun any further, he gives him his best attempt at a look of soft sympathy as he moves forward to help collect the mess of clothes on the floor.

“Are you okay,” he asks gently as he picks up the laundry basket and sets it upright. He looks up at Seungyoun from where he’s crouched on the ground, eyes kind. His expression makes him blush and then he colors even more when he realizes how close Seungwoo is to his laundry. He quickly ducks down beside him to gather his undergarments before the other can see.

“Y-Yes,” Seungyoun responds, shy. He tosses his clothes into the basket and covers the more embarrassing pieces with one of his towels. “I just thought I was alone.”

“Me too,” Seungwoo admits with a chuckle. “But then I heard whistling and there’s nothing creepier than whistling at the end of what you think is an empty hallway.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay!” Seungwoo waves his hands and offers him a comforting smile before it grows into one of amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a singer. Really hit those high notes, huh?”

“H-hey!” Seungyoun shoves at his shoulder, nearly knocking the other onto his ass. “You screamed too!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Seungwoo counters, shoving him back. His brows fly up into his hairline when he actually knocks Seungyoun over and he hurries to help him up with a softly murmured apology.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Seungyoun asks after his basket is full again and they are both on their feet. “Do you live in this building? I’ve never seen you here before.”

“No, I came to visit a friend… wait, you live here?”

“Of course not, I just sneak into random buildings at midnight to find a free dryer or two.” Seungyoun rolls his eyes at him before he double checks the machine to make sure he hasn’t left anything behind.

Seungwoo scoffs at him goodnaturedly. “Okay, smart ass.” The pair of them head out and down the hall. “I just meant I’ve been here a bunch and have never seen you.”

Shrugging, Seungyoun shifts his basket to his hip so he can press the call button for the elevators.

“This is pretty far from campus though,” Seungwoo continues as he watches the numbers above the doors change.

“Yeah, Wooseok was late to fill out the housing application so we got stuck here,” Seungyoun grumbles.

“Wooseok?”

“Oh! My housemate.” Seungyoun pauses before adding, “Remember he was there at the coffee shop last time? Tiny annoying-looking kid?”

Seungwoo laughs. “Right, your housemate.” He hums to himself, looking lost in thought.

“Housemate slash best friend if you’re really nitpicking,” Seungyoun offers. “He’s on thin ice though, that little…” He trails off, muttering indistinctly.

Seungwoo seems to not have heard him, still deep in thought. “That’s good then,” he finally says with a firm nod. “I felt bad.”

Seungyoun looks at him in confusion. “What for?”

Honestly, Seungyoun is impressed when Seungwoo says, with a completely straight face, “For hitting on someone with a boyfriend.”

There is a very pregnant pause in which Seungyoun stares at him with wide eyes and an even wider mouth. "I– on me? You were– hit– what?"

“And then I felt bad because I thought he was not-so-subtly telling me to back off,” Seungwoo continues casually as if commenting on the weather.

Another short silence stretches between them as a whirlwind of thoughts spins through Seungyoun’s mind. He tries to come up with an intelligent response but all he can manage is, “I can’t believe you thought Wooseok was my boyfriend.”

Seungwoo opens his mouth to respond but then Seungyoun, still on edge from his scare before, jumps a little too violently from the _ding!_ of the elevator and he bursts into a lovely bout of laughter that makes Seungyoun’s breath catch and he can’t find it in himself to be offended. He quickly steps into the elevator first so he can fight off the red on his cheeks without the other noticing.

“You’re here really late though.” As the elevator whirs them up several floors, Seungyoun makes his best attempt at small talk. He isn’t sure if it’s intrusive to ask, but it’s better than standing in awkward silence in his opinion. Luckily, Seungwoo doesn’t seem to mind.

“I just finished a shift,” he explains, standing casually against the wall with his hands in his pockets. Seungyoun thinks he looks effortlessly attractive and it’s doing quite a number to his breathing patterns. “My friend promised me beer though and I can’t turn down free drinks no matter how tired I am.”

Seungyoun nods in agreement. “I need some friends like yours,” he muses. He studies the screen above the doors and watches the floor numbers approach his own. “Wooseok makes me buy _him_ drinks.”

Again, Seungwoo laughs and Seungyoun thinks he must have done something pretty great in his past life to be able to hear that sound so much in such a short amount of time. “I’ll buy you beer Seungyoun,” he promises, grinning.

The elevator slows to a stop, doors sliding open after a moment when they arrive at Seungyoun’s floor. He matches Seungwoo’s smile as he steps out. “I’ll hold you to that, so you better not forget!” He stops for a moment to turn and wave at Seungwoo, earning one in return. His mind distantly notes how pretty his hands are. Everything about him is so pretty.

“Good night Seungyoun.” Seungwoo fixes him with kind eyes and a wide smile. “Please take care of your throat before you attempt any more notes tonight.”

“Hey!”

Seungwoo laughs and Seungyoun wishes the elevator would have closed a little more slowly in respect for the precious sound, but it slides shut and carries Seungwoo off into the night before he has the chance to revel in it as much as he wants to. Unable to fight the smile on his face, he turns and heads back to his apartment and hopes he isn’t blushing too hard or else he’ll be subject to more of Wooseok’s teasing.

“What took you so long?” is what his housemate greets him with when he returns home. “I heard some strange yelling, sounded like a pair of fighting cats.”

Seungyoun just takes a deep breath and dumps the content of his basket onto the living room floor, choosing to start folding instead of revealing that he was one of said cats. He can’t be bothered to bicker with Wooseok, especially when the prettiest boy on campus was the other cat and the other cat was hitting on him. On _him_! Seungyoun hides his grin in a pair of pajama pants and suppresses a giggle. He had been stubbornly telling himself that he didn’t have any sort of crush on the barista, but something about the way he feels like he’s walking on clouds right now is making him think otherwise.

♡ ♡

The human mind can sometimes create patterns based on occurrences that the brain attempts to connect together called the _Baader-Meinhof phenomenon,_ or frequency illusion. Seungyoun had never believed in such a thing, but something about this doesn’t seem like an illusion.

He sees Seungwoo basically _everywhere_ now. In the halls of the art building, coming out of the library one afternoon, bumping into him at the student center last week, even on a late night grocery run at the convenience store right off campus. And though it might make sense considering they’re both in the same major department, Seungyoun had never seen him this often before. In fact, he’s pretty sure the first time he had ever seen him was when he’d helped him out at the coffee shop. He would have noticed someone like Seungwoo on campus, no matter how thick the crowds can be. Seungwoo stands out. And right now Seungwoo is standing on the other side of the crosswalk, illuminated in the cold light of the streetlamps, looking every bit as surprised as Seungyoun feels as he stares back at him.

The crosswalk chirps to signal that it is safe to step into the street and Seungyoun watches as Seungwoo does so, hesitatingly raising a hand to wave to him. Seungwoo approaches slowly and as he comes closer, Seungyoun recognizes the now familiar smile on his face.

“What are you doing out right now?” Seungwoo asks in lieu of a greeting. He tilts his head at him and a touch of worry makes his smile droop just a bit. “You okay?”

It’s nearly midnight and tomorrow is a weekday, so Seungyoun can see the cause for concern. He can’t help but smile wider at that, flattered.

“I had to get out of the house,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets. He falls into step beside Seungwoo. “I have an essay to write and the typing keeps Wooseok up.”

Seungwoo nods in understanding. “What a good housemate you are.”

“Please,” Seungyoun resists the urge to roll his eyes. “If I kept him up I would never hear the end of it.”

They walk in silence for a moment, footsteps echoing against the sidewalk before Seungyoun asks, “What are you doing out?”

“I have a late shift today.”

“At the coffee shop?”

Seungwoo smiles at him. “Is that where you’re headed too?” The smile grows when Seungyoun nods his head.

The night air is cool as it winds around them, the sky clear and cloudless. Seungyoun fills the quiet with conversation, finding that it comes easy now that he feels more comfortable around the other.

“Are there usually a lot of people at the coffee shop around this time?” Seungyoun can’t imagine the coffee shop empty, too used to the way it overflows with activity whenever he’s been inside.

Seungwoo hums as he thinks before answering. “Usually when it’s exam season, it’s almost the same as it is during the day. But these days it’s quieter. It can get pretty boring.” He looks at Seungyoun and his eyes reflect the night sky. “But if you’re coming I’ll have some good company.”

Seungyoun laughs, impressed that he barely blushes at his words. It still sends a satisfying warmth through his chest that makes him buzz with happiness.

Sure enough, when they arrive at the coffee shop there are only a few occupied tables. Given that the last days of midterm season are behind them, it’s fairly calm and quiet inside the usually bustling building. Seungyoun smiles at Seungwoo as they part ways, the older ducking into the back room to clock in and get to work. Seungyoun plops down at a table closer to the counter, within earshot of Seungwoo but far enough away to not feel like they’re in each other’s space.

When the barista comes back out, tying an apron around his waist, Seungyoun can’t help but take a moment to stop and admire him. His bangs brush delicately over his forehead as he bows his head to adjust the apron and when his fingers sweep through his hair, Seungyoun distantly thinks of how it looks like a scene straight out of a movie. He blinks out of his daze and quickly busies himself with the essay he came here to complete, not wanting to get caught staring.

He settles in comfortably, falling into an easy rhythm and finally finding his flow with his paper. He doesn’t notice the way the coffee shop empties around him as an hour slips by until he is putting the last period on his conclusion and he looks up to find himself alone. He glances around, the tables that had been full when he’d arrived now vacant and silent and the counter just as barren. He cranes his neck and sees the familiar form of Seungwoo half concealed by the coffee machines, hunched over something with his back towards him.

As if he feels Seungyoun’s stare, Seungwoo suddenly shifts, standing up and flicking his head to get the hair out of his eyes. He stands, turning to move into the back room for a moment, when he catches Seungyoun’s eye and grins.

“All good?” he calls, all friendly smiles and crescent eyes. Seungyoun’s fingers move automatically to his bag to reach for his sketchpad, eager to put the image on paper, when he remembers that he probably shouldn’t do that when his subject is within sneezing distance.

Instead, he smiles back and nods. He gently shuts his laptop with a gentle hand as Seungwoo disappears into the back room. He comes back out only a few moments later, carrying a steaming mug. He circles the counter and settles into the seat across from Seungyoun.

“Are you leaving?” he asks, nodding to Seungyoun’s now closed laptop.

Though he doesn’t have much else to do, Seungyoun doesn’t really want to leave. He isn’t even sleepy anyway, and something about the serene atmosphere inside the coffee shop with just the two of them feels magical. It’s like they’re in their own little universe, enclosed away from the rest of the world. So he just shakes his head.

“I’ll stay for a little longer,” he tells Seungwoo, slipping his laptop back into his bag. He rummages around before slowly tugging his sketchbook out, carefully opening it to a page that is thankfully blank and nowhere near his Seungwoo-related drawings.

Seungwoo lifts his mug to his mouth, taking a careful sip. Seungyoun can smell the delicate aroma of tea, something citrusy and floral that reminds him of his hometown. “What will you draw?” He looks expectantly at the empty page.

Seungyoun taps a pencil against his chin, pursing his lips as he thinks hard. “That’s such a loaded question,” he jokes, shaking his head.

“Stuck?” Seungwoo laughs gently.

“I have been for pretty much the entire semester.” Seungyoun sighs through his nose and runs his fingers along the edge of his sketchpad. “It’s so irritating because I _know_ I can do it. But nothing I do is good enough to me.”

“Have you tried drawing something you _want_ to rather than something you _have_ to? That usually helps me work through times like that.”

Seungyoun bites his lip, not wanting to blush and give away the fact that yes, he has been doing exactly that. But the subject of his drawings is the person sitting right across from him and he can’t imagine the kind of reaction Seungwoo would have if he revealed such a thing to him. So in the end, he answers with a little half-truth. “I’ve been trying that,” he says evasively. “It works a little bit, but I’m still not satisfied really.”

Seungwoo hums. “Maybe you haven’t found the right thing to beat your art block.” He sets his mug aside and rests his chin in his palm, looking at Seungyoun with an inquisitive gleam in his eyes. “You can draw me.”

For a moment, Seungyoun freezes in his seat, unsure if Seungwoo knows about all the rough sketches he has tucked away in his bag or in the back pages of his book and if he’s just making fun of him before he tells Seungyoun to fuck off. But the other just continues to look at him kindly, waiting expectantly for a response. When he remains quiet, Seungwoo shifts in his seat, tilting his head at him. The expression on his face falls just slightly.

“What? Not good enough?” He’s almost pouting.

“No, no!” Seungyoun exclaims, waving his hands wildly and sending his pencil flying. “You’re good! Very good!” He studies Seungwoo’s face, still not sure he’s being completely serious, as he leans down to find the pencil that had just clattered to the floor. When he surfaces, he holds it tightly and looks at him hesitantly. “But… are you sure?”

“Why not?” Seungwoo chuckles. “You can just give it a try.”

Seungyoun mumbles, feeling shy, but also not wanting to refuse him. “I, yeah, okay. I’ll try it.”

“Great!” Seungwoo claps his hands together and sits back in his chair, smiling at him.

“But don’t sit here.”

“Hm? What, do you want to pose me?” Seungwoo snorts.

“No, I mean, you just do your barista stuff and I’ll sit here and,” Seungyoun pauses, still not quite believing they are having this conversation, “and sketch. You.”

Seungwoo nods, smiling good-naturedly and standing to move back to the counter. He looks around for a moment, as if not knowing where to start. “There isn’t really anything to do,” he says slowly, looking over at Seungyoun. “So I’m just going to mime everything, okay? Don’t make fun of me.”

Seungyoun laughs, shaking his head as he smooths his hand over his page. He rolls his pencil in his grip as he watches Seungwoo move around the coffee machines, his hands curling over its knobs and handles. He focuses on the curve of his fingers and the way they move almost gracefully over every surface. His pencil sweeps over his paper and he gets to work, almost on autopilot as he maps out the familiar silhouette.

The entire shop is quiet for a short while, just Seungwoo’s soft footsteps floating through the silence as he walks around behind the counter. Ever so often, Seungyoun will glance up to find him gazing over at him with interest and when their eyes meet his face splits into the most radiant smile. Used to suppressing the urge, it takes Seungyoun a moment before he is turning his paper to fit that smile into a blank corner of his sheet, filling it with a little piece of sunshine. He almost smiles back at the sketch before stopping and catching himself with a tiny laugh.

Seungwoo wanders back over a few minutes later, trying to peek past Seungyoun’s hunched form over his sketchpad.

“How did it go?” he whispers, not wanting to break his concentration. Still, Seungyoun jumps a little, straightening up as his hands naturally fly to cover his work, used to keeping it concealed from others. He doesn’t usually let people see, too shy and insecure about his own skills most of the time, but the attentive look on Seungwoo’s face has him relaxing.

Seungyoun looks down at the pages he has filled. He’d run out of space on the first and had moved onto a second, trying to get the curve of Seungwoo’s smile just right. There’s multiple sketches across the two sheets, just tiny snippets of Seungwoo’s form; everything from the crinkle of his eyes, the slender shape of his fingers, the scrunch of his nose, to the strong lines of his side profile.

“Oh!” Seungwoo says softly as the sketches are revealed to him. He sits down and looks at them in wonder, eyes bright. There’s a suspended moment between the two of them, Seungyoun nervously watching his reaction as Seungwoo takes in his work, admiring every little piece silently. Seungyoun shifts in his seat, insecure; he’s essentially showing Seungwoo the way he sees him through his own eyes and he’s wondering if the way he’s so starstruck by him is transparent through his drawings.

“I’m good enough then?” Seungwoo asks, breaking the silence.

Confused, Seungyoun’s gaze flickers up to him. “What?”

“For your art block,” he replies, tapping his finger against the papers. “Look how much you did.”

Seungyoun rubs the back of his neck, embarrassed. “Yeah, I-I guess.”

Seungwoo takes another few seconds to look at the papers between them. He gently slides them closer to him, asking Seungyoun for permission with his eyes. When he doesn’t refuse, he gives them a closer look with a soft smile. He laughs under his breath, catching Seungyoun off guard.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nothing.” Seungwoo shakes his head, eyes still glued to the page.

“Does it look bad?” Seungyoun reaches out to take them back but Seungwoo leans out of his reach.

“No, not bad!” He smiles at him over the sheets. “This is how you see me?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Seungyoun looks at him, wide-eyed, afraid he’s offended him. He lifts a hand to his own face, drawing it over his own features as he explains. “See, your nose is a little more pointed than mine, and your jaw has a slope like this. And your eyes are like–”

Seungwoo touches his face, confused. “Like what?”

“I’m sorry!” Seungyoun nearly wails, trying again to take the sketches back. “I didn’t know it looked wrong!”

“It’s not wrong Seungyoun,” he laughs, allowing him to slip the papers away from him.

“I should toss them,” Seungyoun mumbles.

“Absolutely not!” Seungwoo suddenly scoots his chair around to bring it beside Seungyoun’s seat, leaning into his space. “But look at this.”

“At what?”

Seungwoo angles his face towards Seungyoun, letting him see his profile up close. “Is my jaw really that sharp?”

Seungyoun scoffs. “Everything about your face is sharp.” This makes Seungwoo laugh.

“Stop, you’re just flattering me!”

“No, look.” Seungyoun lifts a hand, reaching out to touch Seungwoo before he catches himself and redirects his fingers to his own face again.

Seungwoo’s brows twitch at this and he reaches for Seungyoun’s hand, drawing it close. He looks at him questioningly, again asking for silent permission. Seungyoun stills as Seungwoo lets his touch brush over the very features he had just been sketching.

“See?” Seungwoo looks at him as he lets his hand fall away, leaving Seungyoun’s to ghost over the side of his face.

“See what,” Seungyoun whispers. When Seungwoo doesn’t answer, he lets himself have this, if only just for a moment. He gently runs his finger over Seungwoo’s cheekbone and then down to his jaw, outlining the sharp lines that he had put on paper. “See how strong the angle is here,” Seungyoun begins, voice low, only filling the small space in between the two of them. He gently turns Seungwoo’s face to the side before continuing. “And there aren’t many curves when you face this way. Aside from your chin.”

Seungwoo allows Seungyoun to angle his face again, turning him forward once again. His eyes never leave Seungyoun’s as the other dusts his touch over his skin, letting his fingers brush over the slope of his nose.

“And your nose is just like,” Seungyoun pauses, unsure of how to describe it. “It’s so straight.” He runs his finger down the slope, not a single dip in the strong line. “It’s almost impressive.” His touch travels down from the tip of his nose to his cupid’s bow, just barely grazing his top lip. Seungyoun falters, his mind veering off track as he admires the soft pink of Seungwoo’s mouth. His own lips part, trying to continue speaking, but then Seungwoo tilts his head, confused from his silence, and the moment is broken. Seungyoun jumps in his seat, startled and thankfully drawn away from his dangerous train of thought. 

Seungwoo laughs and Seungyoun lets his hand fall back to the table as the older leans back in his chair.

“I don’t think I look quite so,” Seungwoo stops himself, pursing his lips as he thinks of a word. “Handsome? You made me look too handsome.”

“Because you _are_!” Seungyoun blurts out before he can stop himself.

Grinning, Seungwoo shuffles his chair back to the other side of the table and picks up his now cold mug of tea. “Can I keep them?” He nods to the sketches.

“You don’t even like them,” Seungyoun mumbles, but he pushes them over to him, feeling shy.

Seungwoo runs his fingers over the edges of the papers, looking over them for a moment before he glances back up at Seungyoun, his expression serious. “I like them very much,” he tells him, and something about the way his eyes bore into Seungyoun’s makes him feel as if there’s something else behind his words.

It turns into somewhat of a routine. Seungyoun comes to the coffee shop more often in the nighttime, preferring the calmer atmosphere to the chattery activity during the day. He only comes on the nights that Seungwoo is working, the two of them sitting at the same table, surrounded by quiet as they banter playfully and test the waters of this new friendship.

Some days it’s just as empty as it was that first night, and some days there’s a handful of other patrons that keep Seungwoo preoccupied, his attention stolen away from Seungyoun. Those nights he arguably gets the most work done, but he can’t deny the fact that he prefers the nights when it is just the two of them.

There are a couple more times when Seungwoo lets Seungyoun sketch him, sitting there with his face perched on his palms as he watches Seungyoun’s hands skip over blank pages until they’re filled with his features. He still insists that he draws him much more good-looking than he actually is, to which Seungyoun respectfully snorts in disbelief and ignores him.

And then there are the nights when it is just the two of them but they sit in mostly silence, the both of them occupied with their own individual things. Seungwoo stays behind the counter, telling Seungyoun that he’s working on his own assignments while the coffee shop doesn’t need to be tended to. Seungyoun watches him sit on a stool in the far corner, his back to him, hunched over his own sketchpad. He wonders what kind of magic comes from Seungwoo’s fingertips, but he’s too shy to ask; plus Seungyoun knows that an artist will share if they want to. He doesn’t want to push the boundaries of whatever sort of relationship this is.

On these nights, the two of them are close but separated and the coffee shop is still and quiet but in a comforting way. It’s a companionable silence, the only sound is the scratching of graphite against paper, the both of them looking over at each other ever so often. Sometimes they catch each other’s eyes and blush, embarrassed to have been caught, before bursting into soft laughter as they return to their respective work.

It takes a couple weeks of this for Seungyoun to fully accept that yes, he has feelings for Seungwoo. As in _feelings_ feelings. He steps into the coffee shop one night, exhausted after a particularly draining day, and finds Seungwoo’s eyes twinkling at him from over by the pastry case. The view makes his heart hum, as if he’s taken a sip of fresh coffee, feeling the heat slide down into his chest where it spreads outwards throughout his entire body with a pleasant warmth.

The teeny tiny crush that had started as a measly little sprout has now bloomed flowers, spreading vines through his body and stubbornly taking root in his heart. He likes it that way.

And though usually Seungyoun would usually assume he’s alone with this feeling, something makes him want to think that he might be on the same page as someone else.

Honestly, Seungyoun had been extremely sleep-deprived, so he isn’t sure he’s remembering the entire encounter quite right. But it went something like this.

He had swung by the coffee shop the other morning, as had become part of his routine on the days his classes start way too early for any functioning human. Seungwoo had been behind the counter along with another employee, an underclassman named Eunsang who Seungyoun had met weeks prior when he’d taken up one of the night shifts with Seungwoo. He’s a bright looking kid with a pretty smile and a laugh that’s funnier than the joke itself. Introverted as he is, he’d opened up comfortably with Seungyoun who had grown quite fond of him in just a short amount of time.

Eunsang had been fiddling at the coffee machines as Seungwoo tapped away idly at the cash register when Seungyoun arrived. He wandered in with sleepy eyes and a wide yawn, making Seungwoo chuckle at him as he pressed a couple buttons to get Seungyoun’s regular order charged out.

Now, nothing about this was memorable. The thing that continued to replay in Seungyoun’s mind was what happened minutes later, when Seungwoo waved him over to the pick-up counter, his other hand holding onto a steaming to-go cup for him.

Seungyoun could see Eunsang sharply nudging Seungwoo in the side as he approached, the two of them looking like they were engaged in a very heated wordless conversation. Confused but too sleepy to question it, Seungyoun just picked up a coffee sleeve and reached for the cup in Seungwoo’s hand.

“Okay, okay–!” Seungwoo hissed, glaring at Eunsang as he distractedly handed Seungyoun his order.

Seungyoun could see Eunsang rolling his eyes as he moved down the counter to wipe off some mugs.

“Thank you,” Seungyoun hummed as he wrapped his cold fingers around the cup. He fought off another yawn and turned to go.

“Wait–!” Seungwoo’s voice rose and then lowered, not wanting to gather anyone else’s attention. Seungyoun turned back, questioning. “Do you, uh, want to get coffee later?” Seungwoo rubbed the back of his neck, looking down and avoiding eye contact. The tips of his ears were a shy shade of pink.

Seungyoun blinked at him and then at the warm cup of coffee he had just been handed by the barista. He’d been confused for a moment before it clicked and his face lit up with realization. “Oh! Yeah, I’ll come by tonight. I have a lot of stuff to do today anyway.”

Seungwoo bit his lip, shifting his weight where he stands. “I– no I meant like–”

Eunsang sighed deeply from over Seungwoo’s shoulder and then unceremoniously shoved the older out of the way. He placed both hands on the counter dramatically, looking at Seungyoun with a serious expression. “He means he wants to go on a da– Hey!”

Seungyoun watched, dazed, as Seungwoo abruptly whirled the underclassman away with a tight grip on his shoulder.

“See you later Seungyoun!” he called to him as he dragged away the little barista, ignoring his flailing arms.

Seungyoun waved, still confused, not quite sure what had just occurred. But, checking the time, he didn’t have the luxury of sticking around to ask questions because his class was starting in four minutes and a brisk speed-walk across campus would only get him there in three.

But now, as he mulls over the entire encounter a week later, sitting at his usual table in the emptying coffee shop, he wonders if he would be right to assume that maybe Seungwoo was asking for something more than just a cup of coffee.

Today he’d popped in a bit earlier than he usually does, coming in to find Eunsang on the last hours of an evening shift with Seungwoo arriving soon after for his regular late shift. The two of them wander around behind the counter, chattering together as they wipe down counters and prepare the few orders they have. There’s a couple other customers in the shop tonight, keeping the two of them preoccupied and leaving Seungyoun to sit quietly and observe. And of course he’s taken this chance to doodle a bit more into his notebook.

He idly flicks his pencil across the page, only half paying attention to his movements and mostly letting his gaze wander over to Seungwoo. He looks a bit distracted himself and his head turns to find Seungyoun watching more often than not. He smiles every time he looks over and–Seungyoun isn’t sure if it’s just the lighting–his face colors just a bit whenever he looks away.

He rests his head in his hand and studies the sketch he’s shading, trying to figure out what it needs to accurately capture the friendly glint in Seungwoo’s eyes. He’s too busy scrutinizing his work to realize someone has approached his table.

“Can you stop staring at Seungwoo hyung please,” Eunsang sighs, putting his hands on his hips as he stands over Seungyoun.

Seungyoun startles, letting go of his pencil and watching it clatter to the floor. “I– I’m not staring!”

“You are and it’s making him drop everything.” He gives him a knowing look. “It’s almost the end of my shift and I really don’t want to clean up anymore spills so please,” Eunsang leans down so he’s level with Seungyoun, looking at him with big pleading eyes. “Stop staring and just ask him out.”

“Ask– what, ask him?!” exclaims Seungyoun, louder than intended. This time he _does_ hear Seungwoo drop something, he and Eunsang jerking their heads in unison to see him grimacing down at the floor where a mug has just been rearranged into several pieces.

“See what I told you,” Eunsang hisses before he hurries back over to the counter to help Seungwoo.

Seungyoun watches him go, his heart stuttering in his chest at Eunsang’s insinuation. He doesn’t want to ask Seungwoo out! He’s just drawing him because it comes so easily to him. Because he basically sees him almost every day and he’s an easily accessible subject. And because he’s pretty. His eyes meet Seungwoo’s abruptly, who smiles apologetically back at him, probably in reference to the shattered mug, but all Seungyoun sees is the perfect curve to his eyes when he smiles. Yep, he’s so, _so_ pretty.

Okay, maybe he does want to ask him out. Just a tiny bit.

Later, when Eunsang’s shift ends, he gives Seungyoun a meaningful look, jerking his chin towards the turned back of his fellow barista before he takes his leave. Seungyoun shrinks into his chair and pretends he doesn’t know what he’s insinuating.

He spends the rest of the hour trying to focus on his assignment and fighting off the urge to look up to locate Seungwoo’s smile whenever he feels a bit discouraged. It’s hard, considering he can hear the other humming brightly as he sweeps the floors and refills the coffee machines and all Seungyoun can think about is how cute he must look as he does so. Sighing inwardly, he hunches into himself and pushes himself to concentrate.

Yawning, Seungyoun stands up and stretches, stiff and antsy after sitting for so long. He doesn’t want to sit still anymore and he can feel his focus fizzling out for the day but he doesn’t want to head home just yet. Instead, he wanders over to the counter to see if he can spot Seungwoo in the back room. He leans against the cool surface, calling out to him as he sees his shadow moving about between all the shelves.

It only takes a moment for Seungwoo to realize someone is asking for his attention and he pops his head through the door frame with a big smile. “Hey! Are you leaving now?”

Seungyoun shakes his head. “No, but I’m bored.”

“Did you finish your assignment already? I thought it would take longer.”

Again, he shakes his head. “I don’t want to do it anymore.”

Seungwoo laughs and steps through the doorway, approaching him from the other side of the counter. “What do you need from me then?”

“Give me something to do.”

Seungwoo pauses for a second, looking like he is thinking very hard. “How about… your assignment?”

Seungyoun whines, stomping his foot like a child. It makes Seungwoo laugh even more. “Give me something else. What are you doing?”

“My job?”

“Let me help,” Seungyoun says, petulant.

Seungwoo raises his brows, amused. “Seungyoun, I’m getting paid for this. You don’t need to help me.”

“Yes, but I _want_ to,” Seungyoun insists, leaning over the counter and craning his head so he can see what’s going on in the back room. He laughs as Seungwoo hovers in front of him, trying to block his view.

“Please,” he whines again, acting as childish as possible to elicit more laughter from him. “Please please please please–”

“Fine, fine!” Seungwoo laughs and steps away to go back to what he had been doing before, waving his hand to gesture Seungyoun to follow him.

The back of the coffee shop is a bit crowded; it’s a large room but it feels cramped with the walls either lined with shelves bursting with boxes of ingredients or multiple industrial sized ovens. There’s two commercial mixers that Seungyoun peers at with wonder, as well as a door to a cooler a little bit further inside.

“I’m just getting stuff ready for the morning,” Seungwoo explains as he watches Seungyoun wander around, taking in his new surroundings. “It’s really not that exciting.”

“It is!” Seungyoun gestures grandly at the mixers, looking excited. “I’ve only ever seen these in pictures. They’re huge!”

Seungwoo gazes at him, half amused, half fond. “I meant what I’m doing isn’t really exciting.”

Seungyoun pouts at him. “Stop trying to get rid of me.”

Looking away, Seungwoo shakes his head to himself and he laughs lightly. “I would never,” he says, almost too soft for Seungyoun to catch.

Seungyoun wanders over to a small table pushed against the far wall, finding a battered binder lying open on top of it. He runs his fingers over the papers tucked inside, protected in plastic sleeves. “Are these the recipes you guys use? Wow, so you really make everything here, huh?”

“Yup.” Seungwoo comes to hover behind him, looking over his shoulder. “You wanna make one?”

Seungyoun perks up at this. “Really!”

Seungwoo reaches around him and flips through, looking for a recipe. “Yeah, we can just get it mixed and then the morning shift can bake it before the early rush starts.”

Seungyoun buzzes with excitement as Seungwoo pulls ingredients off shelves and rummages around to find large bowls to prepare them in. He waits patiently for him to gather everything: a large bucket of flour, a slightly smaller one of cocoa, an unnaturally large bar of chocolate, a carton of eggs, and several other items.

“Brownies?” Seungyoun snorts, amused. “Is that all you’ll feed me?”

“First of all,” Seungwoo shoots back, pulling out a scale for the ingredients, “You don’t get to eat these. Second of all, it’s the quickest to make.”

“You really are trying to get rid of me,” he teases, reaching out to poke him in the side. Seungwoo bats him away.

“No! But it’s getting late and you’ll have to head home soon.”

Seungyoun nods in silent agreement, finding himself pouting again. He shakes it off, reaching for the recipe binder and reading it over.

Together, they measure out the flour on the baking scale, pouring it into a large mixing bowl where the other dry ingredients will soon join it. Seungyoun laughs at the inordinate measurements, unused to baking for industrial sized pans. The barista grins along with him, sharing his amusement simply because every time Seungyoun reads off the required weight for the next ingredient, he makes the most ridiculous expression of wonder, all wide eyes and open mouthed as he exclaims about the excessive amounts they must measure out.

“Six eggs?” Seungyoun reads off, incredulous. “Six?!”

Seungwoo laughs as he opens the egg carton, trying to pick out the largest ones. “Are you going to be surprised at every single thing we put in here?” He pulls out another mixing bowl. “Wanna see me crack these with one hand?”

Narrowing his eyes at him, Seungyoun moves closer. “You say that like you don’t think I can do it too.”

“Well, can you?”

Scoffing, he picks up an egg and turns it over in his hands. “I watch a lot of baking videos, I’ll have you know.”

“That doesn’t answer my question Seungyoun.” Smiling smugly, Seungwoo taps an egg against the table and then gracefully cracks it into the bowl with one hand. He turns to Seungyoun with a raised brow, looking expectant. “Go on then,” he says, clearly egging him on.

It looks easy enough, Seungyoun tells himself as he studies the egg in his hand and then tries to recreate the smooth movements of Seungwoo. He ignores the way the barista is pressing his lips together to hold back a big smile, holding back laughter, and confidently hits the egg against the table.

It reacts to this by bursting open all over his fingers before it even gets close to its destined mixing bowl. Seungwoo reacts to this by bursting into laughter so hard it folds him in half, bending over with his hands on his knees as his entire body shakes.

Though embarrassed, Seungyoun can’t help but join him, looking down at his deceitful egg, dripping over his hand in mockery. With tears in his eyes, Seungwoo hands him a towel to clean himself off and continues to chuckle as he wipes the counter down with another rag.

“That was amazing,” he says, voice wavering as he tries to speak through his amusement. “You’re a natural born baker.”

Seungyoun mumbles to himself, trying to pretend to grumble but in reality, Seungwoo’s laughter is infectious. He dips his clean hand into a tiny streak of spilled flour on the counter and reaches out to poke Seungwoo’s cheek. It makes the older stop, blinking at him in surprise before he gasps.

“Hey! What was that for!”

“For laughing at me,” Seungyoun pouts, smearing more across his face again.

“You popped that egg like a water balloon,” Seungwoo exclaims, wiping at his cheeks in an unsuccessful attempt to get rid of the flour. It just smears further, making Seungyoun giggle. In retaliation, he reaches for the carefully measured bowl of cocoa and boops Seungyoun right on his nose with a chocolatey finger.

“Hey!”

“You deserved it!”

“Come here–”

Seungwoo dodges Seungyoun as he flicks a pinch of cocoa in his direction, only barely managing to get a light dusting on the front of his apron. Seungyoun is less lucky, getting a line of brown across his sleeve when Seungwoo counters with a flick of his own.

“Not fair!” he whines, pouting to throw him off. His frown makes Seungwoo hesitate, unsure if he’s still being playful or if he’s seriously upset, and he takes the opportunity to toss another pinch at him.

“You play dirty,” Seungwoo gasps, getting a mouthful of flour.

Seungyoun gleefully skips out of his reach, armed with powdery fingers on both hands. He wiggles them at him. “Come at me.”

“Oh I will–!” Seungwoo moves quickly, a dangerous handful of flour clenched in his fist as he approaches Seungyoun, backing him up against the table.

“That’s too much!” Seungyoun whines again, flinching when Seungwoo feints, twitching his arm but not opening his fist.

“You started it,” Seungwoo chuckles, mischief lighting his face as he crowds Seungyoun into the edge of the table, nowhere left to go.

“Don’t do it,” Seungyoun pleads, knowing a lost battle when he sees one. “I don’t have an apron to protect me! You have an advantage.”

Seungwoo just laughs, again pretending to shower Seungyoun in flour but instead letting his handful spill all over the table behind him. He rests his hands on the edge of the table, on either side of Seungyoun, and leans into his space.

He is so close, Seungyoun belatedly realizes, swallowing nervously as he looks up into Seungwoo’s face. He can almost count his lashes, fluttering prettily at him, and he notices lines at the corners of his eyes that he was too far away to see before; his mind distantly makes note of that to include in his next sketches.

“Look what you did,” Seungwoo says, his voice low. “Now we have to clean all this up.” His eyes don’t leave Seungyoun’s face, looking at him meaningfully but with a touch of hesitation, as if waiting for him to do something.

Seungyoun doesn’t quite know what it is that he’s expecting from him, but he is sure that what he does next is probably not what he had been looking for. But something comes over him and he lifts his hands to Seungwoo’s face and draws him in, pressing his lips to his tentatively. It’s just a gentle, shy brush of their mouths and it immediately hits him that if there was a line to cross in their friendship then he has completely obliterated it with this simple peck. But then he feels a warm hold wind around his waist and Seungwoo is closer than ever, his mouth on his again, much firmer, much bolder than before.

He practically melts against him, adjusting his hands on his cheeks to angle him closer and kiss him deeper. His lips are soft and the way he squeezes him tighter, pulling him flush against him, makes Seungyoun’s heart skip several beats. Everything about Seungwoo feels so _warm_ , every press of his mouth, his arm around his waist, his skin beneath Seungyoun’s fingertips, all of it impossibly warm.

Their weight shifts together as Seungwoo backs him even further against the table, the space between the two of them nonexistent. He feels solid against Seungyoun, a comforting weight as he draws him further into his arms to kiss him harder, more insistently, as if he’d been wanting for this for so long and just this first taste is not enough to satisfy him after waiting all this time.

Seungwoo sighs into the kiss and Seungyoun can feel his lips spreading into a smile and suddenly he is very aware of what is happening. His eyes fly open and before he knows it, he has abruptly shoved Seungwoo away with a firm grip on his shoulders.

Seungwoo looks back at him, eyes dazed, cheeks pink, lips parted.

“Oh my god,” Seungyoun whispers, mortified. “I am so sorry.”

“What are you–?”

“I am so sorry!” Seungyoun repeats, nearly shouting this time. “I need to– I should– I am so–!” He is off and running before he even registers his own legs moving, dashing to the front of the house to grab his backpack and then tumbling out into the night, embarrassment flooding over him as he sprints all the way home. The panic and the adrenaline rushing through him propel him all the way back to his apartment, bursting through his front door and completely ignoring Wooseok in the kitchen, hunched over a pot of late night ramen. He barely hears his housemate call out to him, questioning and confused, too focused on getting to his room as fast as possible so he can fall into bed and cover himself with his blankets until he eventually becomes one with his sheets.

Which is exactly what he does for the next week, just burrowed in his bed like a sad little mole, as Wooseok affectionately calls him. When he comes to check on him the next morning, noticing that Seungyoun hasn’t gotten up for his class, he tells Wooseok that he thinks he is coming down with something, but he knows his best friend can see right through his weak lies. His professors are much less intuitive and he has a bunch of excused absences accumulated that he is determined to use, so after sending off some pitiful emails about the flu, he resigns himself to his new life as a duvet on his bed.

Seungyoun can’t afford to leave the house for class, not when Seungwoo pops up everywhere around the art buildings. He is sure the other would be trying to find him, waiting for him to return to the coffee shop before giving him the ‘let’s just be friends’ talk or even worse, the ‘that was kind of weird and I would never like to see you again’ talk.

There is one problem though. One tiny little colossal, absolute monstrosity of a problem. Seungyoun is pretty sure he left his sketchbook back at the coffee shop in his haste to disappear as fast as possible. He whimpers to himself, thinking about Seungwoo flipping through its pages, finding all the little pieces of himself etched into the sheets. He squeezes his eyes shut and tells himself not to cry. It’s okay, it’s going to be okay. He’ll just put in a transfer application so he can switch schools and the chance of him and Seungwoo crossing paths ever again will be absolute zero.

“Seungyoun,” Wooseok’s voice calls from the other side of his door on day two and a half of his moping. He knocks before opening the door to poke his head in. Seungyoun lifts himself up just enough to peer over at him from inside his blanket cocoon, squinting through the dim of his bedroom.

“I’m still sick,” he says, sniffling miserably.

“Mm, yeah sure,” Wooseok brushes off. He steps inside and shuffles over to his bedside. “You wanna talk about it?”

“Seokie,” Seungyoun sniffs. “Seokie I can’t live with you next year.”

“And why not?”

“I’m going to leave the city and become a squash farmer in the rural countryside.”

Wooseok sighs and sits down heavily on his bed, giving him a look that has him shrinking back into his sheets. “Seungyoun. I’m sure whatever happened wasn’t _that_ bad. You don’t even know anything about proper farming practices anyway.”

“I can learn once I’m out there!”

Wooseok just sits there silently and looks at him until Seungyoun realizes that he won’t leave until he gets the answers he wants.

“I kissed Seungwoo,” he tells him in barely a whisper.

“And it went badly?” Wooseok tilts his head at him, looking even more confused when Seungyoun shakes his head in response. “Okay, so then what happened?”

Seungyoun presses his lips together, drawing the blankets tighter around him in preparation for Wooseok’s reaction to what he says next. “Um. I kind of. Ran away?”

He watches as Wooseok takes in his words before he closes his eyes and draws in a deep breath through his nose, looking like he is trying very hard to keep himself from smothering Seungyoun in his protective blanket shell. “You what.”

“Okay, maybe _ran_ isn’t the best way to describe it. I very quickly exited the building without saying anything to him and briskly speed-walked all the way home?” Seungyoun looks at him hopefully.

“Why did you run,” Wooseok sighs again. “What happened in between the kiss and the running?”

“I said sorry?”

Wooseok makes a strange strangled noise in the back of his throat and his arms twitch as if he is fighting off the urge to throttle Seungyoun. “Okay, so what did Seungwoo do?”

Seungyoun cowers away from him. “He kissed me back,” he breathes into his blankets, gaze flicking to Wooseok’s face and away again to gauge if he heard him or not.

“Say it again Seungyoun.”

Seungyoun’s mouth moves wordlessly.

“One more time.”

“He kissed me back okay!” Seungyoun bursts out, throwing his blankets off. “He kissed me back and I ran away and I’m going to become a squash farmer and you can’t stop me!”

Wooseok just shakes his head and stands up to make his way out of the room. “All I’m gonna say is, I don’t kiss people back unless I wanted them to kiss me in the first place. So maybe in between all your moping, you can give that a bit of thought too.” The door shuts softly behind him.

What Wooseok doesn’t know is that Seungyoun _has_ been giving that idea a lot of thought, but it terrifies him that even if Seungwoo felt that way, he probably doesn’t now. Not after he ran and certainly not after finding the contents of his sketchbook. He groans to himself and flops back into bed, burying his face in his pillow.

He remains there for the majority of the week, going between moping in his bed to moping in the shower to moping over the stove as he goes through their emergency ramen supply much to Wooseok’s displeasure. His housemate sits across from him at the kitchen table when he ventures out of his room, saying nothing about the situation, though his disapproving expression speaks volumes.

“So,” Wooseok starts, studying Seungyoun as he blows pathetically on his steaming noodles. “I went to the coffee shop today.”

It’s day-who-knows-what of Seungyoun’s little pity party and while he has spent many hours imagining what might happen if _he_ went back to the coffee shop, nothing strikes fear in his heart more than hearing that Wooseok went to see Seungwoo. He freezes in his seat, chopsticks mid-air, and looks at him with wide eyes.

“Relax.” Wooseok sets down his textbook and puts his chin in his palm. “I just wanted coffee.”

Seungyoun slowly lets his ramen fall back into his soup. “So what happened,” he asks, trying to sound casual.

“I got coffee. It was nice and relatively affordable for a campus-run coffee shop.”

“Wooseok.”

“The brew was good, and there wasn’t too much sugar.”

“Seok.”

“The atmosphere was a bit strange though?”

“Wooseok,” Seungyoun whines.

“I’ve never seen anyone look so disappointed to see me,” Wooseok tells him, looking bored. “I was honestly a bit offended.”

“What did he say,” Seungyoun whispers after a long moment of Wooseok just staring at him.

“He just kinda looked for you when I walked in,” Wooseok shrugs. “And then he asked if you were okay.”

“And?”

“What do you think?”

“You told him I’m a sad little mole?” Seungyoun asks in a whisper, horrified.

“No!” Wooseok presses his hands to his face in frustration. “I just told him I can’t really speak on it. Also he said you left something at the coffee shop but when I offered to bring it home, he told me he would rather give it to you personally.”

Seungyoun groans and buries his head in his arms, collapsing over onto the table. “I’m never going to be able to step foot out of the house ever again.”

Wooseok glares at him. “It’s obvious that he wants you to go see him. Seungyoun, he kissed you back. Does that not give you any clue?”

“Even if he kissed me back, once he saw my sketchbook I’m sure he wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”

“Then why is he asking about you?”

“Probably to give me a restraining order for being a creep.”

“I dunno.” Wooseok shrugs, looking off into the distance. “I think it’s a little romantic. He’s your muse.”

Seungyoun doesn’t even question how Wooseok knows that. Wooseok just kind of knows everything. Instead he groans again, throwing his hands up in the air. “That’s even worse! I don’t trust your sense of romantic.”

Wooseok simply pushes his glasses further up his nose and shakes his head at him before he returns to his book, signalling the end of the conversation. Seungyoun sadly finishes his ramen and slumps back to his room, assuming his housemate has finally dropped the subject.

Except his hopes for that are soon crushed and on day four of his attempt at transforming himself into a cloud of despair, Wooseok barges into his room and sharply prods him in the forehead.

“Get up.”

“No,” Seungyoun whines, pouting at him. “I have two more absences left before my professor docks me points.”

“I don’t care about your class,” Wooseok grumbles. He tugs at his blankets. “You’re going to stop being the physical embodiment of sadness and get your ass out of this apartment.”

“Seokie please,” Seungyoun whimpers, turning over so he doesn’t have to face him.

“Right now this feels like I’m playing a very frustrating Pokemon battle, like I’m trying to get you to make a move but instead all you’re doing is hurting yourself in your confusion. Do you get me?”

“What Pokemon am I,” Seungyoun mumbles into his duvet.

“What?”

He moves his face out of his pillows and peers up at Wooseok. “What Pokemon am I?”

Wooseok looks him right in the eye and delivers the most insulting comment he could ever say to Seungyoun. “Right now you’re being a useless Metapod.”

“I am _not_!”

“Then get your ass up, get out there and show me the beautiful Butterfree you are!”

“I’m not a stupid Butterfree either!”

Wooseok stands up and yanks the blankets off of him. “Sitting here and seeing you mope was fine but I draw the line at disrespecting Butterfree.” He leans in close and pokes a sharp finger into Seungyoun’s chest. “Get your ass out of bed and go _do_ something about this before I take matters into my own hands.”

There is nothing more terrifying than Wooseok’s methods of fixing problems, so Seungyoun finds himself miserably on his own apartment’s doorstep, looking sadly at the tightly closed door that Wooseok has just shut in his face. He stuffs his hands into his pockets and wanders out of his building.

The fresh air feels nice after the stuffy gloom of his bedroom and Seungyoun wanders the blocks around his building for a bit, letting his legs take him where they please. The evening is cool and there is a soft breeze that flutters through his hair as he gazes up at the setting sun.

Unfortunately, the outside world includes the coffee shop and he curses his own two feet for betraying him by bringing him all the way to campus. He cranes his head to look inside, seeing two shapes behind the counter but neither of them strike him as familiar. Neither of them are a tall, broad shouldered, wide smiling certain someone at the very least. Seungyoun doesn’t want to go inside, afraid that stepping in will somehow summon Seungwoo, so he instead walks across the path to settle into one of the patio tables outside the lecture halls. He’s right across the street from the coffee shop, but he feels far enough away that no one inside can see him.

Seungyoun slumps down into a seat that doesn’t look too dusty and puts his head in his hands. Wooseok had told him not to come home until he had figured out what to do about this but truth be told, he wasn’t sure there was anything left to do. He’d run away and then he’d spent almost a week cooped up in his apartment in the hopes that everything would blow over. He is sure that Seungwoo probably wouldn’t want to see someone who kissed him out of the blue and then disappeared off the face of the earth without notice. And on top of all that his sketchbook was somewhere with Seungwoo which was a separate problem entirely.

He sighs loudly, the sound breaking the silence of the cool evening around him.

“Figured I might find you here.”

Seungyoun freezes, hands still covering his face. The voice sets panic right back into his heart and he is sure that the shock is the only thing keeping him from booking it out of there once again. He slowly lets his hands drop as he looks up to find Seungwoo settling himself into the seat across from him.

“You,” Seungyoun says hesitantly, speaking slowly. “You figured I would be sitting in front of the lecture halls across from the cafe?”

Seungwoo laughs, shaking his head. “Okay, you got me. I had to come by work because I left my phone behind and I saw you sitting here.”

“Oh.”

“Have you, uh,” Seungwoo shifts in his seat, “been here all week?”

Seungyoun looks down into his lap, frowning. “I’m sorry,” he says, speaking to his legs.

“For?”

Seungyoun shrugs, knowing that saying _everything_ would be overkill, but feeling like that’s the only answer he has.

Seungwoo reaches down to his backpack and pulls something out, sliding it across the table to him. “Here.”

It’s a sketchbook, but it’s not Seungyoun’s sketchbook, which is what he had been expecting. He reaches out, confused. “This isn’t mine.”

“Take a look,” Seungwoo nods at him, urging him on.

Unsure and hesitant, Seungyoun picks it up and gives it a once over. It’s definitely been used, many of its pages curled at the edges, a sure sign of a lot of love from its owner. He glances at Seungwoo again, nervous from the way he sits back in his chair and watches him. Nothing could have prepared Seungyoun for the contents he would find inside. He tentatively pages through the sketchbook, opening it to a sheet filled with a mess of drawings, squeezed into every inch of available space.

It’s him. It’s all him. The curls at the edge of his lips, his fingers wrapped around a pencil, the stray locks of hair that brush the tops of his brows, the crescent shape of his eyes when he laughs. His breath stills in his chest as he turns the page to find even more sketches, still of him and his tiny little details.

Seungwoo shifts across from him and when he looks up he finds him biting his lip, studying his reaction closely. When he doesn’t say anything, Seungwoo just laughs lightly and runs a hand through his hair.

“You have really pretty eyes,” he says, like it’s an explanation.

“Yours are prettier,” Seungyoun blurts out before he can stop himself. Seungwoo laughs again and then he pulls Seungyoun’s own sketchbook out of his bag and hands it over.

“You looked at it?”

Seungwoo gives him an apologetic smile. “It was open on the table when you left. I wouldn’t have looked if I had known.”

“And you don’t hate me?”

“Seungyoun,” he chuckles, and the way he says his name makes it sound like it belongs in Seungwoo’s mouth. “I don’t hate you. Why should I spend months filling my notebook with sketches of someone I hate? I mean, you did shove me and that was a little bit hurtful but I could never hate you. You did also leave in the middle of everything and I had to finish _and_ clean up by myself, so I guess that kind of sucked and– wait, stop, are you crying?”

Seungyoun sniffles pathetically. “I should have helped you clean up, I’m sorry.”

“I was kidding,” Seungwoo says, amused. He pulls his chair around the table to sit beside Seungyoun, affectionately ruffling his hair. “Please don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” Seungyoun sniffles again.

“Seungyoun,” he murmurs, voice soft.

“What?” Seungyoun rubs at his eyes, stubbornly avoiding his gaze.

“Please don’t run away, but I really like you, a lot.”

“Shut up,” Seungyoun pouts. “I’m not going to run away.” He looks at him from beneath his lashes, shy, but his heart hums from his confession. Gentle hands come up to cup his cheeks, turning him to look Seungwoo in the face.

“If I kiss you,” he whispers, a smile unfurling across his face, “will you run away again?”

“Why do you want to kiss me again?” Seungyoun whispers back, but he’s already leaning closer.

Seungwoo rolls his eyes, but plays along. “For research. I can’t get the details right when I draw your lips.”

“Mm, for research then,” Seungyoun mumbles and then Seungwoo covers his mouth with his and he can’t help but grin against him. It is soft and gentle and tender and Seungyoun lets his hands curl into Seungwoo’s hair to hold him in place as he kisses him harder, feeling himself lean into him comfortably. It’s a little bit awkward, with the arm of their chairs digging into their sides as they press closer together, but Seungyoun falls easily into the feeling of Seungwoo’s gentle kisses and his warm touch on his face.

When he pulls back, his hands remain on Seungyoun’s face and his eyes are still closed. “One more time,” he murmurs. “Just so I know I really got it down.”

“Stop,” Seungyoun laughs, but he leans back in to deliver a quick kiss.

Seungwoo chases after him again for one last one before he lets his hands fall from his face. They don’t go far though, immediately slipping into Seungyoun’s lap to intertwine their fingers together. “To hold you down, just in case,” he teases.

“No more research for you,” Seungyoun grumbles, but when he looks down at their clasped hands he is unsuccessful in fighting off a smile so bright it makes his cheeks hurt.

“We’ll see about that.” Seungwoo gives his hand a squeeze.

“Do you, uh,” Seungyoun hesitates, but then Seungwoo rests his head on his shoulder and his lips brush his cheek and he realizes he doesn’t need to be so unsure anymore. “Do you want to go on a date? For research,” he adds, playful.

“Now?” Seungwoo straightens up, tilting his head. “Nothing’s open.”

Seungyoun looks over at the little coffee shop across the way, its window alight with a warm, welcoming glow. He smiles softly. “I think I know a place.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading! please leave kudos or comments if you'd like! ♡


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